


The Pyjama Zipper Crisis

by Graymalkin



Category: No Fandom, Original Work
Genre: Desperation, F/M, Soiling, messing, pants messing, poop desperation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-06 04:39:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16825309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Graymalkin/pseuds/Graymalkin
Summary: A girl enlists a guy's help to undo her stuck zipper while her gastrointestinal clock is ticking. Awkwardness ensues.





	The Pyjama Zipper Crisis

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a prompt from the Masked Void on OmoOrg.

I want to share a funny, embarrassing, but strangely pleasurable experience I had a couple years ago.

It was Thanksgiving, so a lot of relatives were in town. My mom's brother and his wife stayed at our house for two nights. It wouldn't normally be unusual or uncomfortable for me, but a lot had happened in my uncle's life since he was here last. He had a new wife and a teenage step-daughter.

This girl—let's call her Jill—was in the same grade as me, and as good-looking as any girl I'd noticed at school. She was a strawberry blonde a head or so taller than me with a very developed feminine figure. Thanks to the ridiculously warm weather we were having that fall she was disturbingly underdressed the first time I saw her. She was wearing tight jean-shorts and a blouse made of material so thin it might as well have been tissue paper. My family always hugs when we see each other, but the hug from Jill almost gave me a heart attack.

Now, it was normally a little bit awkward to have a female cousin staying in the bedroom next to me, using the same bathroom as me, walking by my door at night half-dressed etc. This time it was someone I didn't really know who wasn't really related to me. I knew I was gonna be on edge the whole time this girl was in my home.

I'll cut straight to the most awkward part. It was the wee hours of the night after Thanksgiving. Something woke me up in the middle of the night. I laid there a while trying to get back to sleep and inevitably thinking about the nubile young woman sleeping on the other side of my wall. Much to my surprise I heard her whispering at my door.

"Are you awake?" Jill asked. My heartbeat sped up and my nerves all went on alert. Why was she talking to me?

"Yes," I meekly squeaked.

"Can I come in?" she asked. After wrestling with my fight-or-flight instincts I jumped out of bed and threw on some clothes. As I was making myself decent, she said, "I need you to help me with something." My heart pounded faster, my nerves stretched tighter, and I started to feel light-headed.

"Yes," I faintly croaked between shallow breaths. "You can come in," I timidly added when it seemed like she hadn't heard me.

I was worried she'd be wearing something seductive, or nothing at all. When she stepped into my room I saw it was the polar opposite. She had on loose-fitting pink one-piece pyjamas—the kind with attached socks on the feet and a zipper down the back. It was an odd choice of sleepwear for a young woman of her age, but I was thankful for the utter unsexiness. My nerves and pulse were just starting to settle down when she told me why she was in my bedroom.

"I need you to unzip me," she said. Noticing I was at the brink of heart failure, she cleared up what she meant a moment later. "My zipper's stuck. I can't get it to go down. I need another set of hands." She was talking quickly and nervously, and I guessed she felt at least some fraction as uncomfortable as me. The situation wasn't as serious as I'd thought, but it was still amazingly awkward.

"Wouldn't your mom be better at this?" I asked.

"She's asleep."

"Or my mom? Or your dad?"

"Everybody's asleep but us."

"Then why don't you go back to sleep and worry about it in the morning?"

"I gotta go to the bathroom," she explained. I was starting to see why she looked so nervous. "Like, really, really bad," she added a moment later.

"Let's take a look at that zipper," I said when it seemed I had no other choice.

My hands were shaking. My brain couldn't block out the knowledge that there was a shapely naked female torso under that zipper. Even just seeing her shoulder blades made me sweat. I'd be seeing a lot more if I succeeded in unzipped her. If I unzipped her too far I could be seeing a lawsuit.

Jill was nervous too. She kept fidgeting around, shifting her weight from one foot to the other, and even jerking away sometimes when she felt my hands touching her.

The zipper had grabbed a mouthful of fabric off her pyjamas. After messing with it a few minutes I freed the fabric, but something was still wrong. The zipper didn't want to move up or down. Each time it went a little way the track it would stop again. I wasn't making any headway.

"Hurry up!" Jill whisper-yelled impatiently. "It's an emergency!"

After hearing that I gave the zipper the hardest yank I could. The tab came right off and flew into my closet.

"What just happened?" Jill asked.

"I jerked it too hard and now I can't use my hands on it," I said. I cringed when I realized how that sounded. "The little tab thingy that you pull on came off. Now I can't get a grip on the zipper."

"Well do something," Jill said, squirming urgently.

I ran to my desk and got a pair of scissors out of a drawer.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?"

"It's an emergency isn't it?"

"I don't wanna ruin my PJs!"

"They're gonna..." I started to say before shutting my mouth. I had the sense to stop myself before telling her she'd ruin her pyjamas if she had an accident in them. "I'll get the pliers," I said once I'd reconsidered.

I left my room and headed to the kitchen where I'd remembered seeing needle-nose pliers in a drawer. I tried to move fast 'cause Jill's issue was urgent. I also tried to move quietly 'cause everyone else was asleep. I ended up moving pretty slow. I opened every drawer in the kitchen, but failed to find a single pair of piers. I wound up getting a pair of forceps from my dad's fishing vest.

When I got back to my room Jill was in really bad shape. She was sitting backwards on my desk chair with one of her feet under her. I never saw anyone sit like that, but I guess it was helping her keep her contents inside. She wasn't sitting still though. She was squirming worse than before. She was also sweating very noticeably.

"I thought you were never gonna come back," she said when I walked in the room. She didn't sound like she was yelling at me this time. She had a very worried look in her eyes, and was obviously glad to see me.

I got the forceps into the hole where the tab used to be, but it was hard to get the leverage I needed to move the zipper up or down. I thought it might go better if I wasn't crouching like this.

"Can you stand up?" I asked.

When Jill got out of the chair she suddenly gasped in panic and grabbed the seat—not the crotch—of her pyjamas. An instant later I heard a noise I never though I'd hear from a girl's tush. All this time I was assuming she had to pee, but she actually had to poop. I thought about all that Thanksgiving dinner coming down the pipeline. Things could get really messy if I didn't unzip that zipper.

I fiddled around with the forceps 'til the zipper started moving. I got it to go all the way up to her neck, but when I tried to move it down it wouldn't budge at all. I was back where I started.

"Get going!" Jill shouted mutedly. "Get it back down already! This is really an emergency!"

"I can't," I replied. "I'm doing the best I can." I was pulling harder and faster now, but all that did was make the forceps slip out of the hole in the zipper and make me almost fall on the floor.

"It's a really, really serious emergency!" she said as if I didn't know already.

"Are you sure you don't wanna just cut it off?"

"I'm not gonna wreck my PJs! I looked everywhere before I found a pair like this!"

"That's 'cause you're the only girl over the age of 7 who wants to dress this way," I thought, but didn't say out loud.

Now Jill was shaking worse than ever, she sounded like she was hyperventilating, her face was red as a beet, and there were tear-drops as well as sweat-drops streaming down. I kept missing the hole when I tried to grip the zipper with the forceps.

"It's too late!" she eventually announced. "Back off! I'm just gonna get it over with!"

I backed up 'til I was sitting on my bed. The gentlemanly thing to do would've been to look away at her time of bodily function-induced humiliation, but I was too stunned to think of that. I sat there stupidly with wide open eyes and probably open mouth too.

Jill sprouted a tail. It must've been a foot long by the time it finished growing. Then it broke and she had something the size and shape of a banana resting in the crotch of her pyjamas.

Nothing much happened in the next few minutes. I sat motionless while she stood motionless. Her breathing got slower and quieter 'til it was almost normal. My body also came down from red alert.

"At least it's hard," I said, breaking the silence to put my foot in my mouth.

Jill gave me a look, and I tried to explain myself.

"I mean, your poo won't leave a stain," I said, putting my other foot in my mouth.

She continued looking at me, and she continued not saying anything, and I continued trying to save face.

"I mean, I wasn't looking, but I noticed you did a solid poo," I said. I'd now done the impossible—I'd put a third foot in my mouth. Jill ended up not responding to any of the dumb things I said.

"I needed that," she sighed. "Now it's not an emergency anymore. Like, we can take it slow."

Without our shaking and our frantic thinking the zipper problem wasn't that hard to solve. I managed to find the tab, fit it back where it went, and bend the metal so it wouldn't come off again. With a little squirt of cooking spray the zipper moved along the tracks pretty good. I unzipped the pyjamas halfway down Jill's back and trusted her to do the rest. She was finally ready for the bathroom. 

Through the thin wall I could hear the splash of her disposing of her accident and the plops and sprinkles of her taking care of the rest of her business.

She stopped by my room once more before she went to bed. She still looked like she'd been through a disaster, but she was smiling, and her messed-up looks just made her smile seem sweeter.

"Thanks for your help. My PJs are gonna be just fine. Like, there's only an itty-bitty stain nobody's ever gonna notice. Sorry you had to see that...and smell that."

"It's no biggie," I said. The grossness was actually nothing compared to the stress of the whole experience.

"This'll be our little secret, okay?"

I wish I'd thought of something clever or flirtatious to say then, but all I managed was, "Uh-huh."

Then we both went to bed, although I spent a lot of time laying awake thinking about the strange events that had just taken place.

Even though that night was the most awkward experience imaginable it made things a lot less awkward between me and Jill. We have a sort of a comfortable closeness now. Not like family, though. I don't think about family the way I think about her.


End file.
